


Into the Night

by SPowell



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, younger guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-26
Updated: 2012-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-06 01:03:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/412993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/SPowell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winner of the Other World Award (Best AU) 2012</p><p> </p><p>David Starsky and Kenneth Hutchinson meet during their last year of high school.</p><p>Disclaimer: Starsky and Hutch belongs to William Blinn and Spelling-Goldberg Productions. This work is for entertainment purposes only; I make no money off this endeavor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into the Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first AU. Frankly, I don't know if it's any good or not! I've lost all perspective. I hope it's an enjoyable read. I did my best with dates, but considering that canon isn't too clear on their ages and birth dates, I don't suppose it matters too much.
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters of Starsky and Hutch are not mine.
> 
> Songs: "Into the Night" by Benny Mardonas  
> "Baby I Need Your Lovin'" and "Can't Help Myself" by The Four Tops  
> "Hold Me, Kiss Me, Thrill Me" by Mel Carter

**Into the Night**

_“And I want you to know_

_if I could fly, I’d pick you up_

_I’d take you into the night and show you a love_

_Like you’ve never seen, ever seen.”_

 

**Brooklyn, NY**

**January, 1965**

 

David Starsky was outnumbered, two to one. All his street smarts and nights spent learning to box at the YMCA were worth next to nothing now that the big creep with the bad breath had him pinned to the brick alley wall. He tried once again to kick out, but the guy was too close for it to have any effect. The other one, a red-head with pimples all over his face, just stood there and laughed.

“I thought I told ya to stay away from my girl, Jew!” Stink Breath said. “Well, I saw you with her today at lunch, and now I’m gonna make ya pay!”

“Don’t you think havin’ to smell that breath of yours is punishment enough?” David quipped with all the bravado he could muster, his voice tight due to the fingers wrapped around his throat. This earned some chuckles from Pimple Face, but Stink Breath tightened his hold, and David saw stars.

“You Jews are all the same. Money-grubbing, girl-friend stealin’ ass wipes!”

The fist to the stomach that came next would’ve doubled David over, if his tormentor’s tight hold on his throat wasn’t holding him stationary. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he prayed for a chance to break away and run.  Out of the corner of David’s now-watering eyes, he saw Pimple Face pull a baseball bat out of the shadows and hand it to his meaty friend. David’s breath caught in his throat and stark fear liquefied his bowels. How would his mother and Nicky get along if he ended up in the hospital and couldn’t work at the docks? A cold burst of New York wind blew around the corner like an omen.

Stink Breath grinned and reached for the bat while the pimply guy yanked David’s arms and held them behind him. David braced himself for a blow to the face that might very well break all his teeth, when a yell from the end of the alley way caught the three boys’ attention.

“Hey! Shit head! Let him go!”

David jerked at the unexpected interruption, causing Stink Breath’s fingers to tighten about his throat. He squinted, trying to see who his savior was, but the sun was behind the guy, glistening on a head of blond hair that shone white like an angel’s. David began to rethink his doubts on the power of his mother’s nightly prayers for him.

Stink Breath laughed, blowing more of the foul odor into David’s face. “Yeah, and who the fuck’s gonna stop me?”

The blond broke into a run, slamming into Pimple Face and knocking him onto his ass in the dirty alley, spinning David around in the process and almost wrenching his arm out of the socket. Stink Breath turned to face the intruder, bat raised, and the blond executed a thrust kick to his lower abdomen, doubling him over. Then, as David watched, dumbfounded, he karate-chopped the big guy’s neck, sending him sprawling face-first into what looked and smelled like a puddle of piss, the sound of the baseball bat clattering to the pavement echoing around them. Pimple Face got to his feet and went after the blond, but David caught him by the jacket and plowed his fist into his face. He flew backward into a mound of trash and lay still.

David blinked several times, amazed at the sudden turn of events. He recognized the guy that had come to his rescue; it was the rich Midwesterner who had started at his high school close to mid-term. He didn’t know anything else about him, for the boy kept to himself.

“You okay?” he asked David, peering at him with light blue eyes that only reinforced the whole avenging angel thing. A lock of white-blond hair had fallen across his forehead. He was the most beautiful boy David had ever seen.

“I think so,” he managed to get out, rubbing his sore right arm. Straightening, he took a deep breath. “I think I’ll live. Thanks for…that.” He waved toward the two motionless bodies on the ground.

“You’re welcome. We’d better get going, though, before they come to. I might not be so lucky next time. Need a hand?” He reached out and took David by the arm, helping to support him as he limped along. _Lucky? Wow, beautiful_ and _modest,_ David thought.

“What’s your name?” David asked when they’d made it to the street and started walking toward his apartment building.

“Ken Hutchinson. You?”

“David Starsky. I’ve seen you around school…never would’ve guessed you could fight like that.”

“Never would’ve guessed you’d go in for stereotypes,” Ken rejoined.

“Touché,” David grinned, and Ken smiled back, shifting David’s heart into over-drive.

“You live this way, don’t you?” Ken asked.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I’ve seen you around,” Ken shrugged.

“Well, _you_ don’t live this way,” David said. “I know who your dad is. You probably live in a penthouse.”

Ken shrugged again. “It’s just a place to stay until we go back to Minnesota. Dad’s got business here until summer.”

“And you had to come with him?” David asked curiously. The shakiness that had taken over his legs since his close call in the alley began to wear off, his natural swagger reasserting itself into his step.

“Dad believes in experiencing new things,” Ken answered with a note of something in his voice that David couldn’t identify. “He says it makes you strong. That’s why he wanted me to go to this school rather than the swanky one up town. Most of his business is done on this end, and he picks me up in the afternoon. I was on my way to the drug store to meet him when I saw you. Why was that asshole mad at you, anyway?”

“I’ve been spending some time with his girlfriend,” David answered.

“You must really like her,” Ken mused.

“She’s okay. I like makin’ her shitty boyfriend mad even better.”

Ken turned to him, a smile playing about his mouth, and David’s gaze zeroed in on his lips. They were full and sensuous--the sexiest lips he’d ever seen on a guy or a girl. He couldn’t stop staring at them. “You must be nuts,” Ken said.

“A little,” David grinned again.

“Is there something on my mouth?” Ken asked, raising a finger to his lips.

“Huh?”

“You keep staring at my lips.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. There was, but you got it.” David felt his face reddening and turned away.

A silver Mercedes pulled slowly up to the curb and the window slid down, revealing a dark-headed man wearing mirrored sunglasses. “Kenneth. In the car. Now.”

Ken glanced at David. “See you later,” he told him in a low voice, and opened the passenger side door, getting in next to the driver. David was pretty sure it was Ken’s father. They favored a little, although Mr. Hutchinson didn’t have a trace of the angelic look to him. David could hear him berating Ken as they pulled away from the curb and drove slowly off, fighting the late afternoon traffic. David watched them go before turning toward home again.

That night he laid in bed listening to the sounds of the apartment building, which included honking and yelling from the street below his window; fighting from the apartment next door; and the soft breathing of his eleven-year-old brother in the bed next to him.

He thought about Ken Hutchinson and the way he’d fought those two guys in the alley. In his mind he heard his soft, smooth voice and saw his lips, the pink tongue that poked through them when he talked. He saw his illuminating smile and his sky-blue eyes, his long legs and his firm ass. The long finger that rubbed absently on the smooth chest when he thought about something. Before long, David was harder than a rock and had to slide his hand into his shorts to soothe himself.

David liked both girls and boys; he’d known that for a long time. He’d never been in love with a guy, though—never thought it could happen. Until Ken Hutchinson.

He had to see him again.

 

His opportunity came a week later when David spotted Ken sitting alone at a lunch table outside. Starsky took his brown bag and plopped down beside him on the bench.

“Hey,” he said, pulling an apple out and biting into it. He surveyed Ken in his tan slacks and blue shirt made of expensive, soft cotton. The wind was cold, but the concrete bench had been heated by the sun, and the warmth quickly spread through David’s jeans.

“Hey, yourself.” Ken took a bite of his sandwich.

David looked at it curiously. “What’s that? Looks like jelly, but that’s not peanut butter.”

Ken opened the two pieces of white bread and answered, “It’s cream cheese, strawberry preserves, and walnuts. Wanna try?” He held the sandwich out, and David leaned in to take a bite. He was surprised at how good it tasted.

“Wow,” he licked cream cheese off his lips. “That’s really something…never heard of that combination before.”

“We’ve always eaten it at home,” Ken said, taking another bite. “What’d you bring?”

David checked his bag. “Looks like salami on rye. Want some?”

“No, thanks,” Ken wrinkled his nose in a way that David found incredibly cute.

“If you eat out here in the cold every day, it’s no wonder I never see you. I wanted to thank you again for helping me out.”

“I do eat out here most of the time, but this week I was out sick.” Ken reached for a napkin, and David saw a bandage wrapped around his wrist.

“What happened to your wrist?” he asked.

“Just an accident,” Ken replied easily. “You still been seeing Ajax’s girl?”

David frowned, running a hand through his dark, curly hair. “Who’s Ajax?”

“Marion Ajax. The guy who was going to beat the shit out of you in that alley.”

David cracked up. “ _Marion_? You gotta be kidding me. How’d you find out his name?”

“Just poked around a little. Thought it might come in handy some time.” Ken grinned.

David chuckled and shook his head. “Man o’ man. I always just think of him as Stink Breath. And, no, I’ve given up making that creep mad at me. He’s a real Jew-hater, and it was probably dumb of me to get on his bad side like that. Next time I might not be so lucky as to have a guardian angel come outta nowhere to save me.”

“I’m no angel,” Ken frowned. “Too flawed for that.”

“Coulda fooled me,” David said.

The bell rang, and Ken finished drinking his milk and stood. “See you around.”

“Why don’t you come by my place after school? A bunch of the guys are going to get up a stick ball game in the street.”

Ken looked at him for a moment, his blue eyes conflicted. “I’d like to, but I doubt my father would let me. Maybe sometime when he has to work late.”

“Okay. Let me know.” David watched him walk away, feeling uneasy. Ken’s father ruled him with an iron fist, and David sensed a lot of pain under the boy’s cool, easy demeanor. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he threw away his trash and hurried to class.

He barely made it to world history, sliding into his seat just as the last bell rang. 

“Where were you at lunch?” Dean Woodard asked, leaning up in his seat behind David.

“Eatin’ with a friend.”

“Who? Everybody was in the cafeteria.”

“Ken Hutchinson.”

Dean frowned. “That rich kid from the Midwest?”

David nodded once, searching his back pack for a pencil and keeping one eye on the teacher, who was writing on the board.

“Was he eatin’ caviar and escargot for lunch?” Dean snickered. “And what were you doin’ out there eatin’ with _him,_ anyway? You doin’ a research paper on what it’s like livin’ with a silver spoon up your ass?”

“Shut the hell up, Dean, or I’m gonna stick one up yours!” David snarled.

“Mr. Starsky!” The history teacher, Mr. Hasbro, stood a few feet away, unamused. “Please go to Mr. Jenkins office.”

Starsky sighed and got up. He hated history anyway.

***

David worked all weekend at the docks, driving a forklift. Ever since his father was killed in the line of duty, his mother struggled to put food on the table. She worked nights as a custodian at a local office building, leaving David and his little brother at home sleeping.

It was Sunday, and there was less than an hour to go before quitting time. David maneuvered the forklift, unloading the last bunch of crates, and shut it off. Climbing down, he leaned against the machine and rested his forehead on his arm.

“Looks like hard work,” a voice he’d recognize anywhere said close to his ear. David jumped, jerking his head back, just missing Ken’s chin as he stepped away. The blond stood, hands deep in the pockets of his navy slacks, the cold January wind ruffling his hair. Under his jacket he wore a blue turtleneck that matched his eyes.

David took a deep breath. “You startled me,” he managed to say, a little discomfited by Ken’s tidy, clean appearance; he knew his own clothes were stained with sweat.

“Sorry,” Ken said, ducking his head and then peering at him through wisps of blond hair. David stared, transfixed, before giving himself a mental shake. __

“What’re you doing out here?” he asked. “I would think a Hutchinson would be having dinner in some fine restaurant on a Sunday evening.”

Ken’s expression hardened. “I’m with my father. I’d better be going, though.” He abruptly turned and started to leave, and David realized he had said something wrong. Quickly, he stepped forward and shot his arm out to detain him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” David sensed hurt and vulnerability beneath Ken’s suddenly aloof demeanor, and felt guilty for what he’d said. On impulse, he threw an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “I’m glad you stopped to talk to me, Blondie.”

“Yeah?” Ken’s face softened somewhat, although his back remained stiff.

David nodded, patting his stomach and releasing him. “What’s your old man doing out here?”

Ken looked embarrassed.  “His company has a shipping division. He likes to check on things.”

“No foolin’?” Starsky whistled low, impressed. Spotting his supervisor nearby, he got busy straightening the crates he’d just unloaded. “Listen, can you come around in about forty-five minutes? I get off then.”

“I guess so. Dad’s been introducing me around, but I think he’s finished with me. He told me to get a taxi home. You want some help moving those?” Ken reached for a crate.

“Are you kiddin’ me? You’ll ruin your clothes!” David stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Go get us a coupl’a drinks somewhere, and by the time you bring ‘em back, I’ll be through.”

Ken straightened and went off in the direction of Dock Street, where there was usually a vendor or two.

David double-timed his movements, hoping to finish faster and ask to leave early. It had both shocked and pleased him to see Ken there on the dirty docks, and he was filled with anticipation at the thought of spending time with him.

By the time Ken returned with drinks, David was finished and waiting for him.

“I don’t know what you like, so I just guessed.” Ken handed him a soda, and David took a sip from the straw.

“Root beer! My favorite.” He grinned, and Ken smiled back. They started to walk.

“Here,” David dug deep into the pocket of his tight jeans. “Let me pay ya for the soda.”

Ken stopped him with hand to his arm. “Forget about it. You really think I’m hurting for money?”

David smiled. “Guess not.”

“You lived here all your life?” Ken asked as they walked the dark streets, headed for Queens. David knew Ken could certainly afford a taxi, and wondered if he hesitated out of fear of offending him. Or it could be he wanted the time together that walking afforded them? David’s heart sped up at the thought. Sooner or later, though, they’d have to catch a cab or take the subway. Ten miles was a long way to walk.

“Yeah. My dad was a cop. He was killed in a robbery attempt when I was twelve. Ma wanted to ship me out to the west coast to live with my aunt, mainly because I started hangin’ with a bad crowd, but I straightened up quick, and she changed her mind. It wasn’t so much that I loved it here, but I didn’t want to leave her to take care of my little brother all by herself.”

Ken looked at him thoughtfully. “I admire that,” he said softly. “I could tell you were that kind of person the first time I saw you.” David, who since his father’s death had been slowly drowning in a sea of hopelessness, felt his spirits lift at Ken’s words. As corny as it sounded, Ken Hutchinson was a bright ray of sunshine in his otherwise gloomy life, and he felt himself yearning toward him like a plant in the shadows.

“Oh, yeah? You mean in the alley?”

“No, I saw you around before that. Watched you some.”

David stopped and turned to look at him. “You watched me?”

A dark blush began creeping up Ken’s neck. “Yeah, a little.”

“How come?”

“I just thought you were…I don’t know, kind of fascinating.”

David frowned. “Huh?”

“Just really different from me…from what I’m used to. I just like watching you, is all.” Ken started walking again, and David decided to change the subject, filing away what Ken had said to go over later when he was alone.

“Aren’t you from Minnesota?” he asked after a few minutes of walking in companionable silence.

Ken nodded. “Duluth.”

“Do you like it there?”

“It’s pretty dull. I want to move away, but Dad wants me to go to college there and take over the business.”

“What would you do if you moved away?” David asked with interest.

Ken glanced at him, sizing him up. “I’d be a cop.”

David raised his brows. “Really? You don’t look like a cop.” The reserved look returned like a shadow over the sun, and David sensed he had failed a test. He wanted to bite his tongue off. “Of course,” he quickly added, “you fight as good as any cop I’ve ever seen. And you have good people skills.” He touched Ken’s arm, squeezing it just above the elbow. Ken leaned into him for the briefest of moments as they walked, and David smiled. It was a challenge handling the cool, shy Midwesterner. He sensed wounds deep under his calm exterior and something within David wanted to heal those hurts.

“I’ve wanted to be a cop since I was little,” Ken told him. “And I want to live somewhere warm. Like California.”

David thought the good-looking blond would fit in there, but he didn’t say so, sensing that he wouldn’t appreciate it.

“Maybe when you turn eighteen you can just leave.”

Ken sighed. “It’s not that easy. Dad holds the reigns to everything. He’ll pay for university, so I have to go where he wants me to. I do want to go to school.”

“So…” David thought about it. “Maybe you can get a job while you’re in college and save up, then leave as soon as you graduate.”

“My father would be furious.”

“So what? By then you’ll be a man.”

Ken seemed to think this over. They turned down another street, passing a strip bar.

“Ever been to one of those?” David asked.

Ken looked back over his shoulder at the colorful lights flashing above the door. “No.”

“You wanna go in?” David stopped on the sidewalk.

“We’re not old enough,” Ken pointed out.

“I know somebody. I can get us in easy.” He turned back around, and Ken followed him.

At the door, David asked for Otto, and the bouncer went inside for a minute. Seconds later, a craggy man with a broken nose appeared, his scowl changing to a broad smile at the sight of David. “Davey! Good to see you. You and your friend wantin’ some action?”

“We just want to come in for a while,” David told him.

“Sure, sure, come on in.” Otto led them inside where it was dark and warm. Loud music and smoke permeated everything, and David noticed Ken kept coughing and blinking his eyes. They took a seat near the stage where a girl was dancing topless. David thought Ken’s eyes were going to pop out of his head, and he laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Ken asked, his gaze never moving from the girl.

“You!” David held his side. He couldn’t help it, and for a moment he worried he’d made Ken mad, but he just turned and punched David softly in the arm.

“She looks pretty good,” Ken admitted. They sat there a while, and David asked Ken if he wanted a beer.

“You can get that, too?”

“Sure. Just a minute.” He went to the bar and got a couple of beers from his uncle’s friend and came back with them.  The room was close and the air thick, and the cold beer felt good going down David’s throat. “Hey, don’t drink it too fast, it’ll go right to your head,” he told Ken, who was swallowing thirstily. Another girl had taken the stage, this one with the largest breasts David had ever seen, and he’d seen quite a few here. She gyrated around a pole wearing only a G-string.

“You ever been laid?” David asked Ken, watching him ogling the dancing girl.

“A couple of times. You?”

“A few.” David didn’t want to brag, but he’d had more than a handful of both guys and girls. Of course, the guys weren’t guys that went to their school. They were guys he’d met at the docks, usually much older than himself. He liked the way Ken wasn’t embarrassed to admit he’d only bagged a couple of girls. He was used to a lot of lying and posturing when the subject came up among his peers.

“Ever been with a guy?” David asked, glancing at him casually.

Ken turned to him, the look in his eyes neither disgusted nor interested. David thought he looked like he could be considering whether he’d ever tried trout before. “No,” he answered evenly. “You?”

“A few,” David answered, drinking his beer. He felt Ken’s eyes on him, burning his skin, but he didn’t look his way.

A half an hour later, they left the bar. David thought Ken was a little buzzed, but he didn’t say anything.

“You going to the dance Saturday night?” he asked him as they walked.

“No. Are you?” Ken missed a step and almost fell, but David caught him by the elbow.

“Yeah, I’m taking Shelley Honeycutt. You know her? She’s a real looker. Don’t know what I’m gonna wear, though. It’s fancy, and I don’t own a suit. I asked her before I’d thought things out.”

“You can borrow something of mine,” Ken offered. “I’m sure I’ve got something that’ll fit you.”

David looked at him, surprised. “No foolin’?”

“Sure. Look, why don’t we take a taxi there now? Dad wouldn’t appreciate me having company, but he won’t be home this early.” He stuck his hand out into the street, and a moment later, a taxi pulled to the curb. David knew it would’ve taken him a much longer time to get one of the city’s cabbie’s to stop for him, but Ken’s appearance screamed money.

Just as David had suspected, Ken and his father lived in a high-rise apartment in Upper East Side Manhattan. It was spacious, modern, and tastefully decorated in oranges, blues, and browns. Ken entered, throwing his keys onto the bar and heading for the bedroom while David stood looking around.

“Come in here and go through my closet,” Ken called to him, and David followed. His friend’s bedroom was twice the size of the one David shared with his brother, Nicky. Hell, it was bigger than his living room! Ken flopped down on the bed, his nice clothes disheveled from the long walk and their time in the cramped, smelly strip bar. He unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a smooth, tanned chest that David suddenly longed to run his fingers over. With difficulty, he dragged his eyes away from it and to the closet where rows of shirts, pants, and sweaters hung neatly.

“Pick whatever you want,” Ken told him, crossing his feet at the ankles.

David looked through the clothes, finally settling on a pair of dark slacks and a blue shirt. Ken sat up and pointed into the closet. “That darker blue one will go better with your eyes.” He stood and crossed to stand behind David, pressing against him as he moved his arm to the rows of shirts. David held his breath, trembling at the feel of Ken’s body so close to him. Ken pulled out the shirt and held it up. “Here. Strip off your clothes and make sure these fit.“ He sat down on the bed and watched as David obeyed.

He had to turn slightly away so that the semi-erection tenting his shorts wouldn’t be visible. _Go better with my eyes? Does he even realize what he’s doing to me?_ Once he got the outfit on, he turned toward the long mirror on the back of the door.

Ken whistled appreciatively. “You look righteous. Blue looks terrific with your dark hair and blue eyes. You should wear it all the time.”

“Really?” David asked, turning this way and that. He did look pretty good. The pants were a little long, but with the right shoes, they would work. As though he’d read his mind, Ken said, “Try on those white side-buckles.” David got them from the closet floor and slipped them on. They were slightly big, but not too bad. 

“You can stuff some tissue in the toes,” Ken suggested, bending to press at tops of the shoes. Standing, he went to the closet and picked out a belt. Bringing it to David, he slipped his arms around him and fitted it through the loops, then buckled it, his face only inches away. David thought he’d cream in his pants. He stood holding his breath until Ken finished and stepped back.

“Shelly Honeycutt is going to flip her lid when she sees you,” he announced with a smile. “You’re some looker.”

_Is he flirting with me?_

David swallowed.  Ken was still so close he could feel the heat emanating off him and smell his expensive aftershave. “I really appreciate this,” he said.

“Don’t worry about it. I have more clothes than I need. You can keep them if you want.”

“No, no. I’ll have them cleaned and return them to you.”

Ken shrugged. “If that’s what you want, but I’m telling you, I’ll never miss them.”

David took the clothes off, folded them neatly, and put them in the bag Ken found for him.

“I’ll call you a cab,” Ken said, going to the kitchen and the phone.

“I can take the subway,” David objected.

“Forget it. I’ll bill the cab to my father’s company. Nobody’ll be the wiser; Dad does it all the time.”

He poured them some water, and they sat at the bar eating fruit and talking until the doorman called, letting them know the cab had arrived.

“Thanks again for the clothes, Ken.” David squeezed the other boy’s shoulder. “See you at school tomorrow? Maybe lunch outside?”

“Sure,” Ken smiled.

 

But Ken wasn’t there the next day or the day after. David went to the table outside at lunchtime, hoping he would show up, but he never did. When he didn’t appear all week, David began to get worried. He asked one of the teachers, who told him that she’d gotten word from the office that Ken would be out for a couple of weeks due to an accident.

 _An accident._ David ran the words through his head. What kind of accident? A car accident?

The dance Saturday night was fun, but Ken was always in the back of David’s mind. He was worried about him. Could he be in the hospital? Shelley Honeycutt appreciated the way David looked in Ken’s clothes so much, he got lucky with her in the back of a friend’s car when the dance was over. When her blond head bobbed over his lap, his mind wandered to another blond and he had the climax of his young life, almost choking Shelley in the process.

The following Monday when Ken still wasn’t at school, David washed, ironed, and neatly folded the clothes he’d borrowed from him, grabbed some money from the bag he kept hidden under his mattress, and took the subway to Manhattan.  On the walk from the station to Ken’s apartment, he thought about Ken’s father. He hoped he’d be at work, but even if he wasn’t, at least David would get some kind of information on what had happened to Ken. He decided that if the elder Hutchinson answered, he would simply ask after Ken’s health and not say anything about the clothing. He didn’t want to get Ken into trouble with his grouch of an old man.

The doorman was occupied when David entered the building, and he took advantage of that by slipping through a door leading to the stairwell. He climbed several floors before leaving the stairs and seeking an elevator.

Once on the top floor, he found Ken’s apartment and knocked. It was a long wait for someone to come to the door, but finally it opened.

“David!” Ken stood in the doorway, surprised. He stepped back so he could enter. David stood transfixed a moment, his eyes sweeping over his friend. His face was the mottled green that comes from healing black and blue marks, and there was a cut above his right eye and on his bottom lip.

“I brought your clothes.” He handed Ken the package, and when his friend reached for it, he noticed that two of the fingers on his right hand were bandaged.

“Don’t just stand there; come on in,” Ken told him.

“What happened to you?” David asked after he’d closed the door. “Your math teacher said you’d been in an accident.”

Ken swiftly turned around and strode over to the bar, setting the sack there. “Yeah, well.”

“Hey, you okay?” David asked. When Ken didn’t answer, he walked over to him. Touching his fingers to Ken’s face, he forced him to look at him. “What kind of accident was it? Car accident?”

Ken’s eyes wouldn’t meet his until David brushed a thumb across his cheek, and then it was only for a second before they dropped to the floor.

“No. I can’t lie to you, but it’s nothing you can help me with,” Ken said quietly. “I’ll be back at school as soon as I’m all healed up. I’ll tell them it was a car accident, and I’ll make up my school work.”

“What really happened?” David asked.

Ken sighed and walked to the window, looking out at the view of New York City. “My dad came home early that night we were out, before I’d had a chance to shower.  He smelled the cigarette smoke and beer on me, and…well…he got angry.”

“Your old man did this to you?” David asked, incredulous. His father had never laid a hand on him.

“It wasn’t the first time,” Ken admitted. “And it won’t be the last.”

David remembered the bandage on Ken’s wrist. “Did he hurt your wrist that time?”

Ken nodded. “I couldn’t remember the correct pronunciation of the Japanese phrase he taught me to say to one of his business associates. He laughed it off then, but when we got home, he jerked me so hard it snapped a bone in my wrist.”

“Oh, my God,” David breathed, horrified. He’d already figured out that Ken’s father was a jerk, but he’d never imagined the man was beating his son. Cold fury rose within him. He wanted to pound the shit out of the man.

Taking a step toward him, Ken put a hand out and touched David’s arm. “It’s okay, David. I’m used to it. The wrist wasn’t the first time, either. It’s been happening for years.”

“But…what about your mom? Doesn’t she try to stop him?”

“She can’t handle it. She takes a lot of medication for her nerves and spends days at a time in bed. My dad has a lot of girlfriends.” Ken added the last part as if that explained it.

“Why don’t you come live with me?” David asked impulsively, thinking he could give Ken Nicky’s bed and make his kid brother sleep on the floor.

Ken laughed and shook his head. “My dad would find me—and make life miserable for you. Thanks anyway, Buddy.” He gave David a one-armed hug, the bag of clothing still clutched in the other. “I’ll be okay. In general, I’ve learned to avoid making my dad angry. It just seems that lately he’s mad all the time. I don’t think business is going well.” He sat down on the brown couch. “I’ll turn eighteen near the end of the summer. I’ve been thinking about what you said—about leaving home. I’ll get a job and move into the university dorms. I’ll save all my money, plus the extra money he gives me for stuff, and when I graduate, I’ll head for California. Then I’ll be free.”

David sat down and looked sadly at his friend. “I wish I could do something for you now.”

“You _do_ do something for me,” Ken said honestly. “You’re my friend. The only one I have. That means everything.”

David felt his nose beginning to sting and tears creeping into his eyes. His heart felt like it would burst from his chest. “When’re you gonna be back in school?”

“It’ll probably be another week. I can’t write, anyway.” He held up his hand with the bandaged fingers.

“I’m sorry I got you into trouble.”

“Believe me, David. I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. You didn’t get me into trouble; I got myself into it. I knew the risk I was taking, but I had more fun that night than I have in years. It was worth it.”

It made David immensely sad to think that Ken had to risk being beaten just to have a good time. “You’re a swell guy…how come you don’t have more friends?”

Ken leaned back, absently running his fingers over his chest where his shirt was open. “I choose not to have any because of my father. He won’t let me go any place with them, anyway, so what’s the point in having friends? I’d just be making excuses all the time. Plus we’re going back to Minnesota when the school year’s over.”

“So how come you’re friends with me?” David asked curiously.

Ken studied him a moment. “There’s just something about you that I’m drawn to.” He shrugged. “I can’t explain it.” He looked down. “It’s going to be hard leaving you.”

David had a lump the size of a baseball in his throat. After a moment, Ken looked up and said, “You know, I’d love you to stay all afternoon, but my father could be home at any time.”

David jumped up, unwilling to give the senior Hutchinson any reason to lay into his son. Ken walked him to the door. “How was the dance?”

“It was great. Shelley loved the outfit. Thanks again for loaning it to me.” David stepped out into the hall, and Ken caught him by the sleeve.

“Thanks for coming all the way here to check on me.”

David grinned. “See ya round. Come by if you get a chance.”

He waved, watched Ken shut the door, and walked to the elevator.

***

After school on Valentine’s Day, David sat in the booth of his favorite drugstore sipping a chocolate mocha milkshake. The seat dipped, and he turned to find Ken in the booth beside him, a smile on his handsome face.

“All alone on Valentine’s Day?” he asked. “I would’ve thought you’d be with your heart’s desire.”

 _Oh, I am, Blondie,_ David thought, his heart beating double-time as it always did when he was near. Ken reached over, took David’s glass, and sipped at the cold liquid, his tongue coming out to catch some that dribbled out the straw. David felt his dick jerk in his jeans, and he wiggled on the seat. When Ken passed the glass back to him, he sipped at his milkshake, touching his tongue to the place where Ken’s mouth had been on the straw. __

“I’m a loner this Valentine’s Day,” he said casually. “What about you? You don’t have a sweetheart?”

Ken shook his head and looked off in the distance, out the plate glass window of the store and seemingly through all the concrete and brick for miles. David wanted to touch him. He wanted to run his fingers through the silken blond hair and kiss the spot just under his ear.

Instead, he swallowed and said, “Next month’s my birthday, and I’ll have to register.”

Ken looked at him, surprised. “You’re not going to volunteer, are you?”

David shook his head. “Hell, no. I don’t wanna go. I’ve heard stories about Vietnam that would raise the hair on your head. I’m not embarrassed to say that the thought of goin’ over there scares the shit outta me.  But once I turn nineteen, I won’t have a choice. They’ll draft me. What about you?”

“My birthday’s in August. I’m sure Dad will make sure I don’t have to go.” He looked down at his hands on the table.

“You’re lucky, then.”

Ken looked at him “Sometimes I think I’d rather go.”

David put a hand on his arm, squeezing gently.

Ken slid out of the booth. “Come on, let’s go for a walk.”

David followed him out of the drug store and into the cold.

“You really so against running your old man’s business?” David asked to break the silence that had settled over them, comfortable as it was.

“I wouldn’t be any good at it,” Ken answered levelly. He didn’t sound self-pitying, just matter-of-fact.

“How do you know?”

“I’ve failed at everything he’s set before me. I don’t enjoy it.”

David wondered what Ken’s punishment had been for failing, and anger mixed with anguish roiled in his gut. How awful his life must be for him to prefer risking his life in a brutal, fruitless war rather than stay at home.

They came upon a group of kids playing basketball and decided to join in. Stripping off their jackets, they took on two of them in a competitive game that David and Ken ended up winning by a hair.

“You’re good,” David said as they picked up their jackets and resumed walking.

“Thanks. You, too.”

“We make good partners,” David said. “Starsky and Hutchinson.” He made a face. “Your last name’s too long. Hutch. Starsky and Hutch.”

“I like that,” Ken smiled. “Nobody’s ever called me anything but Ken or Kenneth my whole life.”

“That’s what I’ll call you one day when we’re on the police force together. And you can call me Starsky.”

Ken looked at him. “You want to be a cop, too?”

“I’ve thought about it a time or two. Following in my old man’s footsteps.”

Ken thought about it. “I’d like that. The two of us partners on the police force.”

David smiled. “Yeah, me too.”

***

Spring finally came to New York City. All winter, no matter how cold, David and Ken ate lunch together in the school courtyard. Despite not sharing any classes, they’d become inseparable at lunch and whenever there was a spare moment to be had. The school year was wrapping up and summer was in the air.

“You wanna go to the beach this weekend?” David asked Ken on a Friday in early June as they were walking back to class after an assembly. There were only two weeks of school left before graduation. Ken’s father was wrapping up his business in New York, and they’d be going back to Minnesota mid-month. David dreaded it, and he knew Ken did, too. 

“I should be able to swing it if Dad’s still going to that party in New Jersey,” Ken said. “He’ll be gone all night.” David told him where he’d meet him and hoped for the best. They would have so few afternoons together left.

Saturday was hot and the beach crowded, but David didn’t have any trouble spotting Ken. His hair shone white in the sun, and his smooth body was tanned and lithe in his short, green swim trunks and white button-down shirt that hung open. David waved to him from his spot on the beach, and Ken trudged over through the hot sand, flopping down next to him on the towel David had spread out.

“Your dad went to the party, I take it?” David asked, grinning.

“Yep. I’m free all night long.” Ken leaned back on the towel with his arms behind his head, a pair of mirrored glasses shading his eyes.

David watched him for a while before turning his attention to his red swim shorts and the hardening bulge beneath them. Ken would be leaving soon, and he’d never told him how he felt about him. He wondered how he would react. He didn’t want to lose him as a friend—he’d never had one like him before—one that he could tell anything to. One that could read his mind. He dreaded the day he’d walk out of his life forever, because he didn’t see how they’d ever cross paths again, unless all their talk of being cops together one day actually became a reality.

“Ken, will you write to me after you go?” David suddenly asked.

Ken turned his face toward him. “Of course, I will.” He reached out and put his hand on David’s knee.

“Promise?” David asked, his voice low.

Ken propped up on his elbow. “Yes. I promise.”

“Even if I go off to war?”

“Especially if you go to war.” He reached out and pulled David to him, hugging him close.

“I’m really scared to go,” Starsky said softly. He couldn’t imagine admitting that to anyone else.

“You’d be crazy not to be. It’ll be okay. Maybe it’ll end before then,” Ken whispered into his ear, and David shivered, despite the heat of the day.

“Come on,” Ken said suddenly. Standing, he pulled David to his feet. “Let’s do some body surfing!” David followed Ken into the cold water, sucking air in between his teeth as he trudged after his friend through the breaking waves until they reached the point just before they broke. Turning their backs, they caught the next big crest and rode it all the way to shore, landing in a tumble of arms and legs.

“I got sand in my shorts!” Ken gasped, flipping his hair out of his face.

“I got sand up my ass!” Dave returned, and they burst out laughing. Catching their breath, they pulled themselves up and headed out again.

When they were too tired to continue, they went walking on the boardwalk and flirted with girls. They took a couple to an ice cream parlor before heading back to the beach and watching the sun set.  The girls went home and Ken and David headed to where David had locked up his bike.

“Dad’s not going to be home until late tomorrow,” Ken said. “Why don’t you come back with me and stay the night?”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” David asked. “What if his plans change?”

“I’m willing to risk it, but I really don’t think they’ll change. Don’t worry about it, David. Dad won’t do anything to you.”

“It’s you I’m worried about, and you know it,” David said gruffly. He got onto his bike. “Did you take a cab here?” At Ken’s nod, he said, “Hop on the handle bars.”

Ken obediently hefted himself up onto the bars, and David steered them through the streets, peeping out from under Ken’s arm, laughing at the way the blond yelled and winced every time they hit a bump in the road.  David expertly wove the bike in and out of traffic as Ken held on precariously, calling out for him to watch for the truck crossing the intersection or the taxi backing out of a parking space. By his friend’s smiles and laughter, he could tell he was having a good time, and it warmed David’s heart. If he could make Ken Hutchinson happy all the time, he’d be content. When they got to Ken’s building, they had the doorman stash David’s bike and rode up in the elevator. Once inside the apartment, Ken threw their towels in the hamper and got out a stack of 45’s, shuffling through them before selecting a few to stack on the record player.

“I’ll make us some sandwiches,” Ken told him as he crossed to the kitchen.

“Cool. You got something I can wear?” David asked. “My suit’s still wet.”

“Sure,” Ken answered. “Get something from one of the drawers in my room.”

“What’s the name of that song?” David called from the bedroom.

“’Can’t Help Myself’. The Four Tops,” Ken called back.

“They the ones that sing ‘Baby I Need Your Loving’?”

“Yeah.” Ken cut the sandwiches into halves and put them on the bar, along with some potato chips. “I’ve got that one, too. It’s next, I think.”

David joined him at the bar and they ate, both of them ravenously hungry from their afternoon in the sun and surf. When the next record dropped down, David got up and began to dance and sing, snapping his fingers to the music.

_Baby I need your lovin'  
Baby I need your lovin'_

_Although you're never near_  
Your voice I often hear  
Another day, another night  
I long to hold you tight  
'Cause I'm so lonely 

He executed a couple of fancy spins and a slide.

_Baby, I need your lovin'_  
I got to have all your lovin'  
Baby, I need your lovin'  
Got to have all your lovin' 

_Some say it's a sign of weakness_  
For a man to beg  
Then weak I'd rather be  
If it means havin' you to keep  
'Cause lately I've been losin' sleep 

_Baby, I need your lovin'_  
I got to have all your lovin'  
Baby, I need your lovin'  
Got to have all your lovin' 

_Empty nights_  
Echo your name  
Sometimes I wonder  
Will I ever be the same 

David was singing every word to the boy in front of him with the indulgent smile on his handsome face. He’d always loved to dance, and many kids at school told him he was terrific at it. It was one of the reasons he never had trouble getting a date to the school dances.

_Oh yeah, when you see me smile_  
You know  
Things have gotten worse  
Any smile you might see  
Has all been rehearsed 

_Darlin', I can't go on without you_  
This emptiness won't let me live without you  
This loneliness inside me darlin'  
Makes me feel not alive, honey 

_Baby, I need your lovin'_  
I got to have all your lovin'  
Baby, I need your lovin'  
Got to have all your lovin' 

_Baby, I need your lovin'_  
I got to have all your lovin'  
Baby, I need your lovin'  
Got to have all your lovin' 

Ken watched him, admiring his moves and laughing when he hammed it up. To David’s delight, when the next song dropped, his friend got up and began to sing with it. He made a handsome picture with his blond hair still ruffled by the wind, remnants of sand on his tanned chest, shirt open and bathing shorts tight in all the right places. David’s pulse began to race.

_Hold me, hold me_  
Never let me go   
Until you've told me, told me   
What I want to know   
And just hold me, hold me  
Make me tell you I'm in love with you  


David had never heard Ken sing before, and he was enthralled. Acting just as much the ham as David had been a moment ago, Ken got on his knees and belted out the song to him.

_Thrill me, thrill me_  
Walk me down the lane where shadows will be, will be  
Hiding lovers just the same as we'll be, we'll be  
When you make me tell you I love you  


Ken stood up and circled David’s chair, bending low and singing into his ear, sending shivers racing up David’s spine.

 __  
_They told me, "Be sensible with your new love_  
Don't be fooled thinking this is the last you'll find"  
But they never stood in the dark with you, love  
When you take me in your arms  
and drive me slowly out of my mind

_Kiss me, kiss me, and when you do_  
I know that you will miss me, miss me   
If we ever say adieu, so kiss me, kiss me  
Make me tell you I'm in love with you 

The song almost broke David’s heart, knowing that Ken was leaving soon, and he might never see him again, no matter how much they dreamed of being cops together one day. But there was laughter in Ken’s eyes when he took David by the hand, pulling him off of the bar stool, and began dancing him around the room like two lovers at a ball.

_Kiss me, kiss me, and when you do_  
I know that you will miss me, miss me   
If we ever say adieu, so kiss me, kiss me  
Make me tell you I'm in love with you 

_Never, never, never let me go…_

Ken’s face pressed close to David’s, their bodies swaying to the music as he continued to sing in his ear. David couldn’t stand it; the moment was too perfect. As the song ended, he leaned back and, with a look of pure need, pulled Ken’s head toward him and kissed him hungrily on the mouth.

Ken stopped dancing and stood, allowing David to kiss him.

The new Righteous Brothers song began to play. David pulled away and looked Ken in the eyes.

 

_Oh—my love, my darling, I’ve hungered for your touch…a long, lonely time._

“I been wanting to kiss you since the day you ran into that alley and saved my ass,” David said hoarsely. “Are you mad?”

Ken shook his head. “No. Not mad. Just…confused.”

“Do you mind if I kiss you again?” David asked hopefully.

Ken gazed into his eyes. “I think that would be okay.”

David closed the distance between them, moving his lips over Ken’s, relishing the feel of their soft fullness. This time he ran his tongue across them, and was rewarded by a shiver running through Ken’s body. David moved his hand up to sink into silky blond hair, loving the feeling of it between his fingers. To his delight, Ken opened his mouth and met his tongue with his own. David’s groin became even harder, and he moaned.

A noise at the doorway made Ken push David away from him forcefully, and before he knew what was happening, Ken’s father stood in the entry way. Ken had quickly taken a seat on the couch and was flipping through album covers. When he saw his father, he stood.

“Hello, sir,” he said calmly.

“Turn that noise off,” Mr. Hutchinson barked. Ken obeyed.

“Dad, this is David Starsky, a friend of mine from school. We’ve been down to the beach.” There was no way to hide that fact since Ken still wore his bathing suit.

Mr. Hutchinson nodded at David. “Mr. Starsky, would you excuse my son, please? He and I have something to discuss.”

David nodded and picked up his things. He glanced nervously at Ken, wondering what would happen when he left. Ken gave him an encouraging nod of his head and a soft smile. David held his eyes for a moment, then turned and went out the door.

In the hallway, he took a deep breath. He’d barely had the time to register the wonderful feeling of holding and kissing Ken before the surprise of Mr. Hutchinson’s arrival had ruined everything. Would Ken be in trouble for going to the beach or having David into his apartment? He imagined he would, and that thought made him sick. He stood for a long moment listening hard, but he didn’t hear raised voices from the apartment.  Resigned, he took the elevator down to the lobby and got his blue Huffy from the doorman, worrying the entire ride home to Brooklyn.

He waited for a phone call that never came, and when Ken didn’t show up at school Monday or Tuesday, David dug into his money stash again and took the subway to his apartment building. When he reached it and asked the doorman to please let Ken know he was there, he was told that Ken and his father had closed up the apartment and gone back to Minnesota.

David was struck dumb.  Why had Ken and his father left so abruptly? Ken was about to graduate, for Pete’s sake! Could his father have been so angry over Ken having a friend over that he packed them up and moved them back home? It just didn’t make sense.

Then he started to wonder how Ken had really felt about what had happened between them. Could he have been so uncomfortable that he’d told his father he wanted to go home? But, no. Even if he had, it was unlikely that Ken’s father would comply. Plus he could always fly Ken home and stay himself to wrap up business.

David worried and fretted over it for days, wishing he’d gotten Ken’s address in Minnesota so he could at least write to him and ask what had happened. He’d thought there’d be plenty of time for that.

Weeks passed and he graduated without Ken by his side.  David wasn’t about to volunteer for the army, but he knew that once he turned nineteen, he was fair game. He hoped the war would be over by then. He managed to get a job as the night door man at the same building where Ken had lived. He hoped that they might return, but time went by and they never did.

He had dreams about kissing Ken, and in the dreams they went even further…lying naked and touching each other all over. He woke from these dreams sweating and hard as stone. He stopped looking at men and only dated girls. There was no man that could possibly compare to Ken. Every time the song came on the radio that Ken had sung to him and they had danced to, a terrible pain consumed him, and he had to turn it off. One night, when out with a girl, David had to stop dancing when Mel Carter’s voice began singing over the speakers. He muttered something about having to go to the bathroom, and stayed in there until the song was long over, and he’d gotten hold of himself.

Time dragged on. The next winter was cold and long. David hadn’t heard a thing from Ken, even though he had promised him that day at the beach that he would write. He knew that could only mean one thing: he was disgusted by what had happened between them. Still, he worried about Ken and hoped he had found some way to escape his father and be happy.

David heard that the boy named Marion who had tried to beat him up in the alley had volunteered for the army as soon as he graduated and been killed in Vietnam. The same had happened to a lot of boys he knew. He took solace in what Ken had told him about his father never letting him go to war. At least he wouldn’t be one of the casualties. It didn’t seem that it would ever end, and David resigned himself to going.

Finally, the following spring, David’s draft notice came. He showed it to his mother with a heavy heart. She cried for hours. He spent the month before he was supposed to report for induction trying to get things in order in their apartment. He fixed the leaking faucet and oiled the squeaky doors. He asked the neighbors across the way to keep an eye on his mother and Nicky. He prepared himself mentally as best he could, but every time he thought about going, his bowels turned to water and he had to rush for the toilet.

Two days before David was to report, he received a certified letter stating he was being released from his obligation to enter the army. It gave no reason. He showed it to his mother, and she burst into tears, saying that God had answered her prayers. It took a while for it to sink in for David, and he kept the letter with him at all times in case someone should come to arrest him for draft dodging.  

Finally, though, life settled down and he realized that no one was going to come and drag him off to Vietnam. He had dodged the bullet, so to speak. Somehow, some way, David Michael Starsky had gotten out of fighting in the awful war.

Life went on. David gave up his job as a doorman and started driving a taxi. He met a lot of people that way, and just after he turned twenty, he was on one of his late-night runs when he picked up a man at the airport who was from Duluth, Minnesota. David became so excited at the news that it took him a while to work up the nerve to ask him if he knew the Hutchinson family from Duluth. David had long ago exhausted all avenues of finding an address for Ken from the Hutchinson shipping connections, which apparently had switched its business to docks in New Jersey.

“Sure, I know the Hutchinsons!” The hefty man in the back of David’s cab said, loosening his tie. “A very influential family in Duluth, that’s for certain.”

“I used to be friends with the son—Kenneth.” David peered eagerly at the man in the rearview mirror.

“Ah, yes, young Kenneth Hutchinson. He’s in for a lot of money, for sure. Set to inherit quite a bit, I hear, the day his father passes on. And now he’s married to a girl whose family owns large amounts of real estate.  A definite match, that was. And the wedding! It must’ve cost a fortune! Happened last May at one of the ritziest hotels in the area.”

A low buzz started in David’s ears, and he lost the thread of the conversation. All he heard was that Ken was married.

_You fool! What did you think? That he’d never get married? That he’d come back for you? You’re an idiot, David Starsky. A mother-fucking idiot._

David hardened his heart after that. He stopped looking at every blond head he saw in a crowd, and he stopped thinking about something he’d never have. Unfortunately, he couldn’t control his dreams, and he continued to have them about Ken Hutchinson for years to come.

***

**Bay City, California**

**1970**

David Starsky’s mother was dead, his brother had graduated high school and gone to work with their uncle in retail, and David had packed up and moved to California to stay with his Aunt Rose. She had begged him to come, saying that Uncle Al needed his help in his garage, which was a lie, Starsky knew, to get him out there. Aunt Rose had always had a soft spot in her heart for him. He readily accepted the invitation, but rather than spend his life as a mechanic, he decided to go with his old plan to follow in his father’s footsteps.

He sent an application to the Police Academy and was accepted. Two weeks later, he was ensconced in a room with his roommate for the next twelve weeks standing in front of him. “Todd Billings,” the thin blond with the crew cut introduced himself.  

“Dave Starsky.” Starsky shook his hand. Later, when Todd was in the shower, Starsky took his wallet from where the man had left it on the nightstand and looked through it. Todd was a spudmuncher from Idaho, he was two years younger than Starsky, his middle name was Morgan, and he didn’t have a lot of cash on him. Starsky took a piece of paper from where it was tucked in the fold of the wallet and spread it out on his leg.

It was a drawing of a unicorn.

Starsky stared at it a few more minutes before folding it back up and replacing it in Todd’s wallet.

The guy wouldn’t last a week in the academy.

There were two more days until orientation, so Starsky decided to spend them being lazy on the beach.  He managed to ditch Todd, telling him he was going to spend the day at the public library. For a split second, he was afraid Todd was going to say that sounded like a lot of fun, but to his relief, the boy opted to go to the movies.

Starsky spent the afternoon lying in a lounge chair, soaking up the sun, a pretty redhead he’d picked up on the boardwalk rubbing oil into his legs. He pushed thoughts of his mother out of his mind, along with her painful final days dying from cancer. He tried not to think of Nicky, whom he missed in spite of himself, or of all the friends he’d left behind. He’d made a few new friends in Los Angeles already, and life was beginning to look up. He was entering a whole new phase, and he was determined it would be a happy one.

“That’s enough, honey,” he told Rita, who had slathered so much oil on him, sand was sticking to him with every breeze. He helped her to stand and then pulled her, giggling, down onto his lap. He surreptitiously felt her up beneath her orange beach jacket while humming to a song on the radio. He was just leaning down to nibble on her soft neck when the first strains of a familiar tune started playing, and he almost knocked Rita onto her ass in the sand in his rush to change the channel.

“What’s wrong with that one, Davey? I love that song!” Rita pouted when he’d turned the knob to find something else.

“Bad memories,” he said, settling back in the chair. “Sorry, sweetie.”

Rita’s lip poked farther out. “Some girl, I guess,” she said, snuggling up against him.

“No girl could hold a candle to you, baby,” Starsky crooned, holding her close. _And you don’t hold a candle to **him**. **No one** could._

Sometimes he wondered if he was romanticizing the boy he’d met years ago. After all, they’d known each other less than half a year. But his memory was as clear as though it were yesterday. And that song had brought it all rushing back.  Dancing in the living room of the spacious high-rise apartment, Ken’s arms wrapped around him as he sang into his ear. And then that kiss…

Out of the corner of Starsky’s eye, a flash of blond hair on a tanned, lithe male body caught his attention and sent his heart into his throat. He stared at the guy until he turned around and disappointment coursed through Starsky’s body. He leaned back into the chair and sighed. He was going to have to nail Rita good to get any relief from the persistent longing he felt.

When he returned to the dorm rooms it was after midnight. Curfew wouldn’t be in effect until after orientation, but Todd was already in bed, a nightlight shining from the outlet near his head. Starsky leaned over and looked to make sure he didn’t have his thumb stuck in his mouth. Satisfied, he stripped off his clothes and climbed into his own bed, immediately falling asleep.

From the depths of his slumber, he heard talking. Two men going past the door to his dorm, their voices fading down the hall. The soft, rich timber of one of the voices sent Starsky out of the bed in a matter of seconds.

_He knew that voice!_

_H_ e ran to the door and jerked it open, catching sight of two figures moving around the corner. One turned and looked at him briefly. He was short and stocky with a tattoo on one of his beefy arms. Starsky was just about to take off after them when he looked down and remembered he didn’t have a stitch of clothing on. Shutting the door, he looked around hurriedly for his jeans. He finally spotted them in the corner where he’d thrown them the night before and pulled them on, almost tripping in his haste. He opened the door again, taking off down the hall at a run. Skidding to a halt at the corner, he looked down the long hallway of dorm rooms, wondering where the men could’ve gone. He wanted to knock at each and every door, but it was the middle of the night; he’d get a punch in the teeth for sure. __

Dejected, he walked back down the hall to his room, where Todd was still obliviously asleep, snoring softly.

The next morning Starsky was awakened by a gentle shaking of his shoulder. “Wake up, sleepyhead! They’ve provided breakfast downstairs.”

Starsky opened sleep-blurred eyes to find Todd leaning over him with his guileless green eyes squinting behind dark-rimmed glasses.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” Starsky said, sitting up in bed.

“I haven’t put my contacts in yet. Come on…they have a real spread downstairs.” Todd was already dressed in navy bellbottoms, a wide-collared  white shirt, and tennis shoes. He seemed eager to get downstairs and kept bouncing on his toes while Starsky got ready.

With multiple yawns, Starsky peed and brushed his teeth, threw on his jeans and a clean shirt, and followed Todd down the two flights of stairs where about two dozen men were milling around the large common room eating off paper plates. A buffet had been set up in the corner, and Starsky headed straight for the coffee, listening to the general talk around him.

“They say the guy that teaches law is a real stickler for detail. We’d better have some fun tonight, because we won’t be having any for the next twelve weeks!”

“I’m more concerned about the fitness program. I’ve heard all kinds of shit about that. It’s gonna be like the army all over again!”

Starsky turned away, unwilling to be colored by the rumor mill. He’d find out what the program was like soon enough. Eyes raking the crowd as he sipped coffee from his Styrofoam cup, he spotted a beefy guy that was almost assuredly the one he’d seen in the hallway the night before. Setting his coffee on the buffet table, Starsky headed toward him.

“’Scuse me,” he said, poking the guy on the shoulder.

When he turned around, Starsky was even more certain it was the same guy.

“You sleep up on the second floor?” Starsky asked.

“Yeah? So?”

“Last night, late…you were with this other guy…”

“David Starsky!” Someone was shouting his name.

“I need to know if the guy is somebody I used to know--”

“David Starsky! Telephone call!” Some guy was standing at the door looking around. Who would be calling him here? Aunt Rose? Had something happened?

Starsky pointed at the beefy guy. “201. That’s my room. My name’s David Starsky. If your friend is Ken Hutchinson, tell him to find me. 201!” He called back over his shoulder as he ran for the guy still shouting his name. When he got to the phone in the back corridor, his Uncle Al told him Aunt Rose had had a stroke. He didn’t even change clothes, but headed straight for the hospital.

The following night, Starsky arrived, exhausted, at the door to his building. The next morning was orientation. His Uncle Al had insisted he come back to the academy, even though Aunt Rose was still in the hospital. She was going to be okay, though; the stroke had been a mild one.

Climbing the stairs to the second floor, Starsky steeled himself to see Todd, who undoubtedly would bounce on his feet in glee when he saw him. The kid was definitely excitable, and not really even a kid—being over twenty-one—which made it even worse. Starsky could just imagine him jumping up and down after catching his first perp. The thought made him laugh. Man, was he exhausted.

On the way down the hall approaching his door, Starsky missed a step when he caught the muted strains of music. _Why that little shit! How the fuck did he know which song was guaranteed to drive him nuts?_

Quickly, he put his key in the door, his anger building with every note.

_Hold me, hold me…never let me go until you’ve told me, told me_

_What I want to know and then just hold me, hold me_

_Make me tell you I’m in love with you_

Seconds after crossing the threshold, Starsky was across the room, ready to rip the needle off the record. _When in the hell did Todd get a record player?_

_Thrill me, thrill me_  
Walk me down the lane where shadows  
Will be, will be  
Hiding lovers just the same as we'll be, we'll be  
When you make me tell you I love you 

As Starsky reached for the arm of the needle, the voice now singing along with the song registered in his ears. Starsky froze in his tracks, unable to move. The voice grew closer until it was just under his ear.

_They told me be sensible with your new love  
Don't be fooled, thinking this is the last you'll find_

Starsky swung around, mouth open, and there was the face of his dreams. Slightly older, but only more handsome for it. Just as he had himself, the angel of his boyhood had filled out into a man. A beautiful, beautiful man. Standing right in front of him and singing to him.

_But they never stood in the dark with you, love_  
When you take me in your arms  
And drive me slowly out of my mind 

Starsky reached out to touch him and was immediately grabbed up into a dance around the small room as laughing eyes looked into his, and Ken continued to sing to him.

_Kiss me, kiss me_  
And when you do, I'll know that you will  
Miss me, miss me  
If we ever say, adieu  
So kiss me, kiss me  
Make me tell you I'm in love with you 

_Never, never, ever let me go_

When the song died away, and Ken stopped and slowly let go of him, Starsky forced words past his frozen lips.

“I can’t believe it!”

Ken smiled wider. “I thought the same thing myself when I heard you were here.”

Starsky looked around the room and realized that Todd’s stuff was gone. “What happened to Todd?”

“I paid him to switch roommates with me,” Ken told him, backing up and taking a seat on the edge of his bed. “I hope you don’t mind.” Uncertainty had crept onto his face, and Starsky quickly stepped forward and sat beside him.

“Of course I don’t mind. So we really are gonna be cops together…guess I can start callin’ you Hutch now.”

Ken grinned again. “It’s already what I go by. As soon as I left home, I started my new life.”

Starsky looked down at his friend’s hands.  “Where’s your wedding ring?”

Hutch’s face grew somber. “You knew about that?”

Starsky nodded.

Hutch looked away. “I’m divorced. Well, in the process of getting divorced.  All part of my fall from grace. Dad’s furious; I’ve been cut off. Permanently.”

Starsky reached out and took his hand. “What happened? I waited to hear from you, then found out you’d gone home. I never got any letters…”

Hutch turned pained, sky blue eyes on him. “My dad saw us, David—kissing.” Hutch reached out and trailed a finger down the side of Starsky’s face, sending shivers through him.

“I must’ve heard him shutting the door rather than opening it like I thought. I was always so good at listening for him, but…my mind was occupied with—other things.” He blushed and looked up, meeting Starsky’s gaze, and Starsky remembered the kiss there in the living room. The feel of those lips on his—the hard body pressed against him.  “After you left, Dad was furious. More furious than I’d ever seen him.”

Starsky frowned. “Did he hurt you?” He gripped Hutch’s hand tightly.

Hutch shook his head. “No. And that was more frightening than anything else he could have done. He packed us up that night. I didn’t have a chance to call you, and I was forbidden to write, although I tried. He always discovered the letters, and that’s when he started with the threats.”

“What threats?” Starsky whispered.

“He told me he’d make things hard on you. He’d get you fired from your job. And your mom fired from hers. He told me I was absolutely to have no contact with you, or he would do those things and more. He arranged for me to get my high school diploma by mail, and that Fall I started at the university. Then he ordered me to start seeing Vanessa…my ex-wife. She’s the daughter of one of his colleagues, a man that my father admires very much. He thought it the perfect match.”

“What’s she like?” Starsky asked, gently playing with the fingers he held in his hand.

“Beautiful. A beautiful, well-bred, cold fish.” Hutch looked at him with tormented eyes. “She’s awful. There isn’t a warm bone in that woman’s body.” He shuddered. “All she cares about is money and sex.” He looked away, and Starsky squeezed his hand again.

“I wasn’t going to marry her, Starsk. I refused.”

“What did your dad do?”

Hutch looked at the wall for several long minutes before answering. “He told me he’d use his connections to make sure you went to Vietnam, right in the middle of the worst of the combat.”

Starsky’s mouth dropped open. “Are you kiddin’ me?” But he could see by the look in Hutch’s eyes that he was deadly serious.

“I-I told him I’d marry her, but that I’d never sleep with her---never give him grandkids—unless he agreed to get you out of going to war at all.”

Starsky’s eyes grew wide, remembering the sudden, inexplicable letter telling him he was no longer required to report to induction. “Oh my God!”

Hutch swallowed. “It was worth it,” he said vehemently. “He promised to leave you alone—if I married Vanessa. So I did. And he did.”

“But you’re divorced now?”

Hutch nodded. “Her request.” He smiled a little sheepishly. “Seems I’m just not good husband material. And fortunately for me, she had no intention of having kids. She took birth control pills.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “God, Dad was furious! Called me every name in the book. But he didn’t kick me out. I walked out.” He opened his eyes and looked into Starsky’s. “I had saved up my money, just like you suggested. Socked it away for years. Literally--I kept it in a sock tucked into a box of jock itch cream.” He laughed. “I knew Dad would never touch _that_! And I flew to New York City that very day. But you were gone.” He put out his hand and caught one of Starsky’s curls in his fingers. “I’m sorry about your mother.”

Unexpectedly, Starsky’s eyes filled with tears. He hadn’t cried once since his Ma had died, and just one ‘I’m sorry’ from this man, and he was an emotional wreck. But then, who else in the world was he close enough to to be able to let go like this?

Hutch held him, rubbing his back and murmuring in his ear. Kissing away the tears, and then just kissing him.  Starsky kissed him back, willingly, lovingly, and finally with a growing desire that burned them both.

“I thought you were angry about what happened between us,” Starsky gasped between kisses.

Hutch backed up a little, holding Starsky’s face between his hands. “No! No.” He kissed him again, delving his tongue inside Starsky’s mouth, and Starsky answered with his own tongue. Fisting his hands in soft blond hair, he ravished Hutch’s mouth, making the other man moan as Starsky pushed him onto his back on the bed. “God, I’ve missed you,” Starsky murmured into the plush lips. “I’d given up hope of ever having you this close to me again.”

Hutch reached up and pushed a dark curl out of Starsky’s eyes. “I’ve thought of you every single night since I left New York,” he said solemnly. “I had so many wet dreams, our maid couldn’t look me in the face anymore.”

Starsky grinned, leaning down to kiss Hutch again and again. “I would dream of us naked,” he told him after several long moments. “Our bodies pressed together and your long legs wrapped around me.” He kissed Hutch’s throat, feeling him swallow. The song on the record player kept repeating, but it was no longer the painful reminder that it once was; rather, it had transported him back to that day in Ken’s apartment. “How did you know I was coming back tonight?” Starsky suddenly asked.

“I didn’t,” Hutch smiled. “I’ve been playing that song for two days. I think the guys next door are ready to kill me.” His face sobered. “I heard something happened with your aunt. She okay?”

“Yeah, she’s gonna be fine.” Starsky looked at him seriously. “I love you,” he said softly and watched Hutch’s eyes go misty.

“I love you, too,” Hutch whispered. Reaching up, he began unbuttoning Starsky’s shirt. “I want it to be like your dream…our bodies naked and pressed together.” His breath hitched as he skimmed the shirt off Starsky’s shoulders.

Starsky’s eyes lowered, and he unbuttoned Hutch’s shirt. After that was off, they both stood and shyly finished undressing. Starsky’s eyes lingered on his friend’s groin where soft blond hair surrounded a large, cut cock.

“Always figured you for uncut,” he said hoarsely, watching the long phallus twitch enticingly.

Hutch shook his head slowly, just as mesmerized by the sight of Starsky’s ruddy, thick cock. “All the Hutchinson men are circumcised.” He licked his lips nervously. “I’ve never been with a man, David,” he whispered. “But I want to be with you.” His blue eyes met his.

Starsky’s mouth went dry. Taking a step forward, he pressed up against Hutch so that they were finally skin to skin, relishing in the feel of him as he brought his hands up to Hutch’s sides and slowly moved them around and up his smooth back before sliding down again and then lower to cup his muscular ass.

Already, Starsky’s breathing had become short and harsh. Licking dry lips, he placed his mouth on Hutch’s collarbone, planting kisses along the soft skin there. Hutch grabbed hold of him, clutching him tightly, bringing their groins into exquisite contact.

“Oh!” Starsky groaned, and Hutch echoed him, taking a step backward to topple onto the bed, pulling Starsky with him. He brought his legs up around Starsky’s waist, wrapping them securely. Starsky looked down into his eyes before kissing him with a need that surprised them both in its intensity. On and on, the fire between them burned, searing their flesh together, until they were moaning and panting with need.  Then, slowly, Starsky began to move, dragging his groin over Hutch’s, eliciting noises from his love that quickly drove him to the brink.

“Oh, man,” he groaned into Hutch’s moist mouth. “Ohhh, shit…”

Hutch’s tongue toyed with his, swirling around it and then lapping at the roof of his mouth. Starsky was lost in a haze of desire, unaware of anything other than the man lying beneath him. He nipped at Hutch’s lips before capturing the devilish tongue and sucking it greedily. Hutch arched against him, tightening his legs about his waist and sending Starsky into a rutting frenzy until they both shouted their release, coming in sticky spurts between them.

After several moments of hard breathing, they inched their way up the bed and lay facing one another, stealing kisses between pants of repletion.

“I had this dream one night,” Hutch finally broke the silence, his fingers threading through the hair on Starsky’s chest. He stared into Starsky’s eyes, his own two pools of sky blue. “I don’t know where we were, but it was somewhere safe where no one could interrupt us.”

Starsky watched him, his body still recovering from its explosive release. His hand lay on Hutch’s naked hip. He wanted to stay like this forever.

“Y-you put your cock inside me,” Hutch continued, and Starsky’s mouth fell open, just the thought of what Hutch was saying making him partially hard again. “And—and it was so good,” Hutch breathed. He kissed Starsky’s nose. “I loved it. Since then, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

“I’ve never done that with anyone,” Starsky admitted.

Hutch looked deeply into Starsky’s eyes. “Ever since I found out you were here, and I moved my stuff in, I’ve been…preparing myself,” he told him, and Starsky’s eyes widened. “Stretching myself out,” Hutch clarified.

“Oh, man,” Starsky groaned, and brought his lips to Hutch’s again, his desire evident in the way he took his mouth with abandonment.

Hutch pulled away. “So I really wasn’t being—uh, presumptuous—thinking you’d want to do that with me?”

“Are you kiddin’?” Starsky gasped before attacking his mouth again, his hands reaching downward to clasp the pliant ass cheeks, spreading them slightly to let air touch Hutch where he wanted to enter him. Hutch leaned his head back, and Starsky’s tongue met his throat in long, luxurious licks before he started nibbling and sucking. When Hutch began thrusting at him, Starsky pushed him onto his back.

“I’m not sure how to do this,” he rasped. “I mean, maybe you should be on your stomach?”

“I want to see you,” Hutch said, and Starsky felt his heart melting in his chest. “In my dream, we were looking at each other.”

Starsky positioned himself between Hutch’s spread knees. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered.

“You won’t,” Hutch promised. “David…I want this. Please.”

Starsky squeezed his eyes shut, taking deep breaths and willing himself to take things slowly. Opening them, he looked down at the gorgeous blond man lying before him waiting to be taken, and began to tremble with need. Hutch raised his ass off the bed.

“Go ahead…I used lubrication. I’m ready for you.”

Starsky leaned over him, one hand on each side of Hutch’s torso, and placed the tip of his cock at his opening, gently nudging until he began to slip inside. He watched Hutch’s face tense a little before relaxing into a smile. Sensation took over—a hot, wet squeezing of his phallus that was beyond all description. Fireworks exploded inside him one by one with each inch of his cock that entered Hutch’s body.

“Oooohhhhmygod!” Starsky took a deep breath and stopped pushing. Hutch’s ass gripped his penis like a vice…a soft, snug, velvety vice…

“It’s okay, keep going,” Hutch directed him, his voice just a wisp of air.

Finally, one more push, and Starsky was fully sheathed in the hot tunnel. “You okay?” he asked Hutch, afraid to move.

“It feels great,” Hutch breathed, reaching up and clasping his hands with Starsky’s, their fingers entwining. Starsky moved his hips around and began thrusting in long strokes. Hutch moaned and lifted his ass higher off the bed.

“You’re inside me,” Hutch said in wonder, and Starsky smiled, sweat pouring off his face and dripping onto Hutch’s damp chest.

“Yeah, and it feels amazing,” Starsky told him. He began to thrust faster, and Hutch met him stroke for stroke, pushing himself off the bed with his strong thighs.

“Oh, man…” The feelings pulled Starsky under. The tightening of his sack, the needle-like prickles of pleasure beginning somewhere in his middle and expanding outward, the light airiness in his head that made him feel high, all coalescing before finally exploding in waves of euphoria that brought a shout from his lips. Disentangling his hands from Hutch’s, he reached down and stroked Hutch’s cock with quick, snug pulls of his hand, bringing him over the edge, his cum splashing onto Starsky’s fingers and down to his quivering belly. Starsky pulled out of him and, on impulse, bent and licked up the cum that had pooled in Hutch’s deep navel, making him laugh.

“You okay?” Starsky asked, moving up to lie beside him and kissing his shoulder. “That was the best feeling in the world, being inside you like that. I can’t believe you let me do it.”

Hutch reached up and touched Starsky’s lips. “I’ll let you do it whenever you want. It was amazing.”

Starsky leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Hutch’s, feeling his warm breath on his face.

A sudden banging on the door startled them both and brought them off the bed. The doorknob rattled.

“Shit, I’m glad I locked it!” Starsky whispered, pulling on a shirt that turned out to be Hutch’s.

“Starsky! Hutchinson! You in there? It’s John Colby.”

Hutch gathered his clothes and raced for the bathroom, shutting the door. Once Starsky had his pants on, he pulled the comforter up over the bed and went to the door.

“Yeah, what is it?” he asked the man on the other side of the threshold.  John was one of the few people he’d become friendly with at the academy since he’d arrived. “I was takin’ a nap.”

“A bunch of us are going to a local bar for our last night out. I heard Hutchinson moved in here with you.” He looked around. “Where is he?”

“He’s in the john,” Starsky ran his fingers through his hair. “I dunno; I’m only half awake. Maybe we’ll meet ya there.”

“Okay. O’Malley’s…two streets over.” John turned and left. Starsky shut the door and leaned against it.

Hutch appeared from out of the bathroom, pants on and Starsky’s shirt clutched to his chest.

“Shit! Imagine if he’d walked in and found us in bed together!” Hutch exclaimed.

Starsky stared at Hutch, the significance of what had just happened hitting him full force.

“Hutch, I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

“Ready for what?” Hutch walked across the room and stood before him.

“For us having to hide all the time. Hutch, if we become cops, we’re not gonna be able to be like this together. What if our feelings for each other were to get in the way of watching each other’s backs out on the streets?” He shook his head. “It’ll be way too dangerous.” He swallowed, staring at the blond man before him. He’d just gotten him back---he wasn’t ready to let go of him. He didn’t know if he ever would be. “Being a cop is your dream more than mine, Buddy. You decide.”

Hutch stared at him, open-mouthed, for a moment before walking over to the record player and shutting it off. Silence filled the room.

“We could be cops, Hutch,” Starsky finally said. “We could be the partners we dreamed of being. And we could be best friends—try to lead regular lives. We-we could forget all this and move on together like that. If that’s what you want, we’ll do it. Just say the word. It’s up to you.”

The two men stared at each other for long moments before Hutch made his decision.

***

**1973**

Starsky shut the apartment door and kicked off his shoes.

“Blintz?” he called.

“In here!” Hutch called from the bathroom. Starsky glanced around the apartment. Hutch had obviously been repotting one of his plants on the kitchen table; there was dirt all over it, along with dead leaves.

“The black and white still outside?” Hutch asked as he came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his bare shoulders.

“Just left,” Starsky said, moving into the kitchen and grabbing a beer out of the refrigerator.

“I saw you talking to the officer,” Hutch said casually, leaning against the couch.

Starsky took a long drink of beer and then shook his head. “Man, the things he told me, Hutch. He’s been shot three times in the past two years. Twice, he almost died. And he lost a partner in a drug bust gone bad.” Deep blue eyes looked into Hutch’s. “Makes me think you made the right decision for us two years ago.”

A smile spread across Hutch’s face. “Was there ever any doubt?” He opened his arms, and Starsky set his beer down and walked into them, burying his face in the crook of Hutch’s bare shoulder.

“Not a one, babe. Not a one. Maybe we never became partners on the police force, but we’re partners in every other sense of the word.”

“They find out who broke into our place downstairs?” Hutch asked, giving Starsky an extra squeeze before letting him go.

“Nope,” Starsky sighed and raised his head. “Not yet.” He wrapped his arms around Hutch’s neck. “Not too much harm done, though. We’ll survive.”

Hutch bent his head and kissed his lover thoroughly. “Starsk—I have something to tell you.” He moved out of Starsky’s embrace and rounded the couch, taking a seat.

“What is it?” Starsky joined him, their knees touching.

“I got a call while you were out. From my father’s lawyer.”

“Yeah?” Starsky waited, suddenly afraid that the old man was trying to make trouble for them, although, as far as he knew, Hutch’s father still had no idea where he was.

Hutch let out a breath. “My parents were killed in a car accident two days ago.”

“Oh God, Hutch.” Starsky put a hand on his leg. “I’m…sorry. I know you weren’t close to your folks, but it’s gotta be rough.”

Hutch ducked his head. “It hasn’t really sunk in yet.” He looked around the small apartment he’d shared with Starsky for the past year and a half. “I asked the lawyer how he knew where to find me, and he told me that about a year ago, my father had had a private detective dig up my whereabouts.”

“Really? And he never tried to contact you?”

“Nope. Guess not. Maybe he just wanted to satisfy his curiosity.” Hutch sighed. “Anyway, the shocking thing is that my father never cut me out of his will like he told me he was going to.”

“What?” Starsky was stunned. “You think he figured you’d swallow your pride and come back home one day?”

Hutch shrugged. “I really don’t know. I’ve been sitting here thinking about it, and he’s got to have found out I’m living here with you. Even if he’d thought twice about cutting me out of the will, once he’d learned we were living together, I would think that would seal the deal.”

“But if he didn’t leave everything to you, who would it go to? Besides your mother, that is.”

Hutch sighed. “His sister. I guess. I don’t know. Fact is, he never changed the will, and I’ve inherited it all. And Starsk, it’s a lot.”

Starsky swallowed. “Yeah?”

Hutch nodded. “Yeah. We’ve been living here running our little shop, and we’ve been scraping by.” He put a hand on Starsky’s leg. “And it’s been the happiest time in my entire life. I wouldn’t change it for the world. Don’t think for a minute that I’d want to run my dad’s business any more than I did when I met you. I don’t. I’m going to sell it all, and we’re going to live the way we want to. Whether that’s here or somewhere else, that’s immaterial. But we don’t have to worry anymore, Starsk. We can do what we please.” He smiled.

Starsky couldn’t believe it. It was like they’d won the lottery. One minute they were living hand to mouth and worried because their shop had been vandalized, possibly due to their lifestyle, and the next they find out they can move to Europe if they want to. Do anything they want to.

“Wow,” he finally said, at a loss for words. “That’s…incredible!”

Hutch nodded. “I know.” Reaching out, he pulled Starsky to him, kissing his temple. “You saved me when I met you, David. I don’t know if you realize that. I was so unhappy,” he said softly, his breath stirring the curls over Starsky’s ear. “I didn’t know…” his voice caught , and he cleared his throat. “I didn’t know what happiness was. You taught me what it was. I felt loved, and you gave me a plan…you gave me hope. I was able to go home and eventually get myself away from there. I don’t think I would’ve had the courage to do that if I hadn’t met you.”

Starsky leaned back and looked at him. “I think you give me too much credit, Hutch. You wouldn’t have worked for your old man. You’re too much of your own person. But I know what you mean about the happiness part. The minute I saw you at the end of that alley, I knew—you were the one. I’ve loved you from that minute to this one, and I’ll keep on loving you until the day I die.” He kissed Hutch softly on the mouth, and Hutch tilted his head, deepening it. Clasping Starsky’s hand in his, he stood, pulling him up with him.

“Come on,” he said, tugging his hand.

“Where we going?” Starsky asked.

“To buy a map of the world. We’ve got some planning to do, partner.”

Starsky grinned. “Lead the way, Blondie.”

 

_finis_


End file.
